Villa Cucina
by Viskey HeroMouse
Summary: How things could have played out if Murdock hadn't been able to pursuade Face and Frankie to come along. There's some mild slash (F/M), but nothig graphic. - And please, forgive the unimaginative title.
1. Chapter 1

_Forgive the title, please_

 _Me no own, you no sue. Gracias._

 _A/N: Not sure, how accurate the dialogue in the beginning is, I took it off the episode, but the episode was in German and I translated it back into English myself, so chances are, it's a bit off._

* * *

"I want it back tomorrow, and *washed*." Face said, as he pushed the shirt against Murdock's chest, before sitting back down on the couch.

"Bright white," Murdock answered, not letting the gruff tone fool him.

"Quite an effort for a lousy job as a waiter," BA commented, happy about the opportunity to tease Murdock.

"No, no, no, working as a waiter leads into a safe and prosperous future. If you get a job in one of the finer restaurants, you can make more than $ 100.000 a year!" Murdock instantly defended his new occupation.

"And most of it tax-free," Face added, true to himself.

"I would never cheat on the government, not with what it's done for me," Murdock answered sincerely.

"Say, that joint you work in... is that one of the finer restaurants?" Frankie asked, his tone saying that he strongly doubted it.

"Ah, no... that's more of an entry. It's cosy, not too big, good kitchen..." Murdock's face lit up like he'd just had sort of an epiphany. "Hey, Hannibal, BA! Why don't you come over and let me spoil you some, you sure deserve it!"

"Hey, man, forget it," BA answered. "Today's Monday, there's football, Redskins against Cowboys!" He hit his own palm with one fist in an excited gesture.

"Hannibal?" Murdock hopefully turned to Hannibal.

"Sorry, I planned on staying at home tonight, watch some football... and Wendy said she'd probably drop by."

"Face, Frankie?" Murdock asked the two men he originally had not want to take along, if for pretty contrary reasons. One he didn't want to take along because he didn't like him too much, the other because he liked him too much.

Surprisingly enough Frankie chose to do what "Johnny" did. After all that time he'd spent with them, he was still insecure about his position within the team, and whenever he had a choice, he did what Hannibal did – especially when the alternative included Murdock.

"Face?" Murdock asked.

"Uhm, I guess I'll stay here as well. I've had Italian food the last four days, I'm in for a change. Now if you worked at a steak house..." Face grinned at Murdock. "Another time, ok?"

"Ok... " Murdock's shoulders slumped a little, but he wouldn't force any of his friends into anything. If they didn't want to come to the Villa Cucina, they didn't want to come. End of story.

"Have fun with my shirt, though," Face said teasingly, and patted Murdock's shoulder lightly.

"I'm sure I will," Murdock replied with a certain undertone.

"I'll accompany you outside," Face offered at that, getting up and gently pulling Murdock to the door. Once out of sight of the others, Face bowed forward and pressed his lips against Murdock's. "Maybe I should come along, after all," he whispered.

"You're in for a change, I thought?" Murdock playfully replied.

"Change of *food*, dummy." Face gave him another kiss, "not change of..." he trailed off, interrupting the meaningful silence after a moment, "And that's probably just another reason for me not to come along. I'm not sure how long I can resist you in that red vest..."

Murdock chuckled happily. Exactly why he had not wanted to take Face along originally. He had no idea how well he had his hormones in check, and a waiter with a hard-on was... unthinkable.

"You'd better leave now, or you'll be late." Face whispered before he gave him a third kiss, this one deeper and longer than the earlier ones.

"Ok. You go back inside, tease BA for me." Murdock said with a grin, as they parted.

"Will do."

After another short peck Murdock was at his car, revelling in the feeling of his racing heart. So far, Face and he had been sharing hardly more than kisses. Their relationship had intensified over the years, and now that Face's possibilities to roam around were limited, it had intensified even more. One had led to the other and one day, only two months ago, they had suddenly been kissing.

They had been spending a nice, relaxed afternoon in the garden, talking about whatever had come to their minds. Slowly things had become more and more personal, and in retrospect, Murdock couldn't say who started it, just that suddenly their faces had come close, their breath had accelerated, and the next moment their lips had touched. Face's lips had been so soft and alluring. And *boy* could that man kiss! Murdock had lost himself in that kiss, as he was still losing himself in each of Face's kisses.

From then on, each of their encounters had lead to kissing somehow. And just last week Face had hinted that that wasn't enough for him anymore.

Murdock's eyes lit up. Oh yes, just to think of exploring this. Murdock couldn't help grinning. Who would have ever thought he'd fall for a man? He had considered himself to be straight as can be, and then... then Face had come along, and Murdock couldn't think of anyone else he'd want to be with.

* * *

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

At first everything had looked fine at the Villa Cucina. The couple at the table at the window seemed to have some kind of trouble, but that was their problem. The lone, corpulent man at the other window, silently reading his paper... Murdock wondered, what he was doing at the Villa Cucina, eating out alone... Maybe he was simply a bachelor sick of yet another ready made meal at home.

Only the two men at the table in the middle seemed a little odd. But then, why not two men eating out together? Murdock planned on doing that one himself one day soon.

So, everything was fine: Sal standing behind the counter, whining about how nobody ever came in on Mondays, guests as well as staff, Gina laughing at it lovingly, before returning to the kitchen to her pizzas and noodles.

Murdock looked around the dining area, it was pretty empty. Looked like he was in for a boring evening. Ah, he wished Face had come along, after all.

"Hey, a beer," the younger of the two men in the middle ordered.

"Certainly, sir," Murdock answered in his finest, most polite waiter's voice, not letting on how much the man's rude tone irked him. Partly because he was a waiter now, and waiters were always polite, no matter what. But partly he didn't let show, because he had caught a quick glimpse of the younger man's .357 Magnum tucked in a holster at his side.

Murdock's inner alarm went off the moment he saw the gun. A lot of robberies had taken place in the area lately, and Murdock feared that those two were planning on something. Maybe first have a bite, and then instead of paying, robbing Sal. 'Just you try,' Murdock thought grimly. 'You are not gonna rob my boss. Not you, not anybody.'

Soon he had a plan ready. Basically all he needed to do was disarm the man. So he returned to the table, bowed like he wanted to serve the beer, tipped the tray, the glass toppled over the edge, right into the lap of the younger guy with the gun.

"Sorry, so sorry, sir," Murdock quickly apologized, dabbing the man dry, and while doing so, he pulled the gun from his holster.

"Hey!" The man protested furiously, reaching out for his gun, now in Murdock's hand.

'Damn, but Face could have done this without that guy noticing it,' Murdock thought, before he pulled back his fist to land it on Young Man's chin. He felt his knuckles connect with the bone, cursing inwardly about the pain. Damn, where's BA when –

He heard the shot before he felt the pain.

Of course, after the initial shock the pain ruled his world completely. He was dimly aware that he had fallen to the floor, must have. You didn't collect a bullet in the stomach, and kept standing.

"Who is that freak?" He heard Young Man ask, a little beside himself.

"Calm down, Joey," another man replied, most likely his skinny friend. "Whoever he is, he's out of the way, so cool down."

"Where there's one, there may be more," another voice joined in. Murdock looked and realised it was the corpulent man from the window. Murdock saw a gun in his hand, and realised that he must have been the one who'd shot him. The man didn't even look down at him, instead he looked at the skinny man, "Angelo, you and Joey, get him out of here. Carry him into the kitchen. Everything must look alright in here, when the Attorney General comes. Understood?"

Whatever happened next, Murdock didn't get it, because he was being moved – carried into the kitchen – and being moved sent hot flashes of pain through his body. The cold tiles of the kitchen-floor brought back his senses for a moment, but soon only added to his already alarming condition. He was feeling a coldness that could not stem from the tiles alone, and he perfectly well knew what that meant. Further self-diagnosis brought up quickened heart-rate and laboured breathing. – Wonderful, if he didn't act fast, he was going to die.

Not that he hadn't been there a couple of times, but usually he had one of the team with him. This time it was only him, a frantic Gina, a shocked Sal, and two thugs staring mercilessly down at him.

* * *

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Face watched the game on TV only halfheartedly. Usually he liked watching football – if not as much as playing – but tonight his thoughts were set on something different, namely all the things he wanted to do with Murdock. He'd never thought he'd think of Murdock that way. Sure, they had always been close, with a special bond that he shared with nobody else, but there had never been any physical side to their relationship.

Face had experimented a bit in his youth. He would have quite some tales to tell, he mused, but that had been curiosity for the most part. Gay sex had been a thrill, something desirable because it had been so very forbidden. True, some encounters had been better than others, and Charles... With Charles it had been actually good. But that was a long time ago now, and Face had really believed that that part of his life was over for good.

And now Murdock.

BA, Frankie, Hannibal and Wendy – she'd come a few minutes before the game had started – gave a big cheer, pulling Face out of his reverie.

"What a kick-off!" BA shouted.

"And nothing to celebrate it with," Wendy, snuggled up against Hannibal, pouted.

"Pizza would be fine," Frankie piped up.

"Yeah..."

"You think Murdock's pizzeria does deliveries?" Frankie asked.

"Oh, he'd never forgive us if we made him deliver us some..." Hannibal grinned broadly at the thought.

"Sorry to ruin your plans, Colonel," Face said, "but I don't think the Villa Cucina does deliveries. But I could go and get us some," he offered. He didn't follow the game anyway. He might as well just leave, and the prospect of watching Murdock in that red vest and black pants... Face smiled to himself. Murdock never dressed up to highlight his assets. He was content with comfortable and practicable – and funny, when it came to his t-shirts.

"That would be great, Lieutenant."

"Yeah, just make sure there's no anchovies on it!" BA grumbled.

"Ok, I'll make it quick." Face was already standing.

* * *

Murdock wracked his brain for something he could do. He himself would hardly make it, not with that injury, but the Attonrey General, Gina, Sal, the couple at the window... He had to do something to protect them.

Gina had put his legs onto a box, like he'd asked her to, and was pressing a kitchen towel against his wound, but it was a futile attempt. His blood kept soaking into the towel, the coldness in his body increased, he could hardly feel his legs anymore, his breathing was shallow and his heartbeat was weak and fast. The kitchen turned dark and blurry before his eyes, only Gina and her reassuring voice stayed clear to him. It was complete nonsense she told him, like that he was going to make it. Murdock knew he wouldn't make it, not this time. This was his call.

Why now? Why when his life was finally becoming really good? There he was, independent of the VA and all and any meds. There was Face and their blossoming relationship. There was so much more he wanted to explore with him. Oh, Face... He'll be devastated.

"Face," he muttered.

"What? What did you say, Murdock?"

"Tell him I'm sorry. Face... tell him... I'm... sorry..."

"You won't die, Murdock," she insisted stubbornly, and he tried to smile at her in response, thanking her for the sentiment, even though he knew better.

"Hey, pretty lady!" Young Man dashed into the kitchen. "There's a guy outside who want's a pizza, take-away."

"I can't leave him," Gina protested.

"He's dead already, so go, do your work."

"Go," Murdock pleaded with her. "He's right."

"No, no I won't..."

Young Man twisted his fist into her hair, yanking her upwards, making her crying out in pain. "You do what you're told, chick!" he hissed menacingly.

"I'm sorry, Murdock," she apologized in a small voice.

Murdock only nodded his acceptance. He didn't want the thug to hear his pain.

Surprisingly enough Young Man left Gina alone to prepare the pizza. There was a chance for Murdock. "Gina," he asked softly.

"Yes?" She rushed to his side immediately.

"No, keep making... the... pizza..." Gina didn't. "Go," Murdock demanded with a bit more strength to his voice than he felt. "And gimme the... box."

"Box?" Gina frowned in confusion for a second, but then her features lit up with understanding. She handed Murdock the prepared pizza box.

Murdock didn't take it. "Clean one," he made clear.

Only then Gina looked at the bloody finger prints she'd left on the cardboard. "Oh," she said, wiped her hands clean and took a new box.

Murdock told her to open it, and with a bloody finger started to write 'help' on the bottom of the box. It wouldn't be seen when the pizza was on it, but... Most likely it was futile anyway, but he just couldn't do nothing, that was not him.

* * *

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Face stood at the counter of the Villa Cucina, looking around. Murdock had been right about the restaurant. It was a nice, cosy place. Just – where was Murdock? He should be around. Even if he was in the kitchen, he should have heard his voice and come out. Maybe he was on the toilet, happened to waiters too, after all.

But time went by, and Murdock still didn't show up. "Excuse me," Face asked the old man behind the counter, "but isn't Murdock here tonight?"

The old man seemed very nervous, when he answered, "No... ah, yes, he should be here, but he didn't come. Like my other waiter and the cook. It's Monday, you know? Probably they're all three at home, watching that football game."

Face could tell that that man didn't believe what he was saying. Something was wrong here. "Do you mind if I use your facilities while I wait?" he asked politely.

The man looked to the side nervously, and Face resisted to follow his glance, to find out what – or more likely who – he was looking at. "Ah, yes, sure. It's there at the back." He pointed in the direction.

"Too kind of you." Face nodded his thanks and headed for the restrooms – no sign of Murdock there or on the way there.

Once in the restroom, Face locked himself up in a cubicle, sitting down and thinking. Something was wrong with Murdock. He was not there, when he should be. They all knew that Murdock wouldn't fail in his obligations unless something really serious hindered him.

There were three possibilities: One, Murdock had had an accident. Unlikely, because he was a good driver, and his car was in excellent condition, thanks to BA. Plus, Face had not seen any signs of an accident on his way here. So possibility one was out.

Possibility two, Murdock had decided to go somewhere else, for what ever reasons. But he would have called, telling them about his changed plans, so no, Murdock had not gone anywhere else.

Possibility three, something had happened to Murdock in the restaurant. The owner was acting nervous enough. Something was decidedly wrong in this restaurant, and Murdock had said something about robberies in the area a few days ago. Possibility three was unfortunately not out.

Face got up with a sigh, flushed the toilet for show, washed his hands and returned to the dining area.

"Here, that's ten exactly." A tall, wiry man handed him a pizza box.

Face pulled the money from his pocket, and handed it to the wiry man, who was as much a waiter as Face was a monk. But there was nothing he could do about it at the moment, so he just took the box and left the restaurant. He practically ran to his car, parked half a block away, and once there, he opened the box, hoping to find a clue. If Murdock was around and able, he would have left a clue for sure. At first sight there was nothing, but when Face pushed the pizza aside, he saw light markings on the bottom of the box. It looked like... HELI. An unfinished "help" in capitals? Face picked up his car phone, and while he waited for somebody at the house to pick up, he inspected the letters more closely. Could be blood.

"Yeah?" BA picked up.

"BA, we got trouble, Murdock's not at the restaurant."

"So?" BA only paid half attention, his mind still on the game.

"I got the word 'help' on the pizza box. Something's wrong. The atmosphere in the restaurant was tense, and there's a guy who does definitely not look like a waiter. I fear something's up here."

"You sure?" BA paid a lot more attention now.

"Yeah, the word looks like written with blood. You guys better come over."

"Sure thing." With that BA disconnected the line.

Face put the box down on the passenger seat, and left his car. He took watch opposite the restaurant, observing the actions taking place inside while impatiently waiting for Hannibal and BA to arrive.

On a superficial glance everything seemed alright. There was a couple seated at the right window, although they seemed mighty uneasy. There was a corpulent man at the left window. He was nursing a glass of beer, his eyes surveying the dining area. In the middle of the room there were two men seated at a table. One was a young guy who undoubtedly thought he was stylish, and the other was the wiry guy who'd handed him the pizza. With the white haired owner of the restaurant, and presumably one other person in the kitchen that made a total of seven. And Murdock. Face was sure by now that something was wrong with Murdock. No way he'd stay in the hide so long if he was ok. And the blood... Maybe it was his. God, what took Hannibal and BA so long?

Finally the black van pulled up. Face hopped into his usual seat and updated his friends.

"Any idea what the thugs want?" Hannibal asked, when Face had finished.

"No. Murdock had mentioned robberies that have taken place in the area lately, but this doesn't look like your regular robbery. I mean," Face waved at the restaurant, "there's three of them, and they're in suits, not exactly standard robber's fashion. And they're still in there. If this was just about the money... they'd have chosen another day to begin with, it's Monday, after all, most people stay home, watching the game. Plus, they'd taken the money by now and vanished. No matter who got hurt in the process..." Face's voice wavered a little on the last words.

"Sounds plausible." Hannibal looked pensive for a moment. "Ok, here's the plan. BA, you and Frankie go in first, order something. Five minutes later Face and I'll follow through the backdoor."

That said, they were about to carry out their plan, but were hindered by a cop knocking his nightstick against the car window. "Anything I can help you with?" he asked.

"Uh, is it forbidden to park here?" Hannibal asked back, not unfriendly though.

"No, but we have had some trouble in the neighbourhood. One can't be too careful. I don't want to end up investigating a robbery, because I haven't watched closely enough. – No offence."

"None taken," Hannibal assured quickly, he couldn't afford to spoil the cop's mood. "But you might indeed help us. We're looking for the Lincoln Memorial. We got a wrong turn somewhere, and now we can't agree on which direction to go next."

"Ah, just take the second left, then you make another left, then right. That'll take you right to the monument," the cop readily explained.

"Got that?" Hannibal asked BA.

"Yeah got it."

"Good, then let's get going. Thanks for the directions, officer."

"No problem," the cop said with a polite nod. "And you picked a good time. The Lincoln Memorial looks great all lit up at night."

Hannibal thanked the man again, then BA stepped on the gas, slowly pulling away.

"What now?" Face asked.

"Well, we gotta take that turn left. He's watching us."

"We return on foot?" Frankie asked.

"Have to. Much as I love the van, it's a bit obvious."

* * *

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

_To keep Murdock Calavicci from falling off the proverbial edge of the seat ... Here is, a little sooner than planned, chapter 5_

* * *

Murdock opened his eyes with an effort. He had no idea how much time he had left, but it couldn't be much. Preparing the box had pretty much used up his reserves. He only hoped that it worked, and that whoever had taken that pizza would call the police.

"Hold on, Murdock," Gina pleaded with him.

Murdock wanted to tell her to tell Face that he loved him, but he couldn't quite form the words. Besides he'd better save his energy for a minute more of surviving. – Whatever good that might do.

He heard the knock on the door. The irrational hope arose in him that it might be one of the team.

Gina turned away from him, undecided on what to do next.

"Go," Murdock breathed, and she did. She patted his shoulder affectionately, before she got up, quickly made it over to the backdoor and opened it.

"Sssshhh!", was all Murdock heard, then Gina whispering something. He thought he heard the word ambulance, but maybe that was just wishful thinking. He strained to see, squinted his eyes and saw...

"Face." Despite his weakened condition and pain a true smile spread on his face.

"Murdock, just hold on a little while longer, ok? The girl's out, she's calling the cops and an ambulance. We'll have you fixed up in no time." All the while Face was checking his vitals.

"Love you," Murdock whispered. He saw light at the end of the tunnel, but he might still die, and it was imperative that he told Face this.

"Love you too, muchacho," Face answered sincerely.

Murdock smiled again. Muchacho... It sounded so terribly good from Face's lips.

Further communication was cut off by the kitchen door swinging open.

"Hey, pretty one!" Young Man entered the kitchen, apparently expecting to find Gina.

Pretty, indeed, Murdock thought, and mentally giggled at the thought. But his giddy mood vanished, when Face didn't move to take care of the situation. Murdock wanted to urge him, but then he heard why Face didn't bother. Hannibal was in the kitchen too, and he was taking on the guy.

Good.

Face was glad he didn't have to leave Murdock, because his vitals were anything but fine. If he didn't get treatment within the next 30 minutes, he was dead. And that was not going to happen, not if Face had anything to say about it.

"Hang in there, Murdock, just a few more minutes, ok?" He lifted Murdock's bloody hand to his lips and pressed a kiss on it.

"How's he doing?" Hannibal had knocked the guy out, and had now time to check on his teammate.

"Has been better."

"How long?"

"Thirty minutes, Colonel," Face answered, not bothering to lie or whisper. Murdock wasn't dumb, he knew about his condition.

"Well, paramedics should be here in ten minutes." Hannibal patted Murdock's shoulder. "We'll get you patched up, Murdock, don't worry."

"Hey, Joey!" The kitchen door swung open, and Wiry Guy peeked in. "What the hell's taking you so long?"

"Me," Hannibal said getting up, and with two quick steps was at the door, punching the guy.

Face felt the indistinct urge to go and help cleaning up the place, but there was Murdock, probably dying. He just couldn't get up and leave him. Murdock was more important now. Hannibal, BA and Frankie were well capable of sweeping this place clean. True enough he heard the sounds of a starting fight, then a gunshot, then silence.

What?

Face hated being in the dark, so he felt compelled to check. But he also hated leaving Murdock, and therefore felt the need to stay just where he was. He was caught between a rock and a hard place, his favourite position.

However, Frankie showing up in the kitchen indicated everything was fine. He turned pale when he saw Murdock on the floor, all the blood soaking into Face's shirt and the towel. "We..."

"I take it the situation's under control?" Face asked, pressing the towel against Murdock's wound with one hand, and clutching one of Murdock's hands with his other.

"Uh... yeah."

"Good."

"Anything I can do?" Frankie asked in a small, insecure voice. He wasn't a bad guy, not at all. He was unnerving sometimes, but Face suspected that that was mostly due to insecurity. Frankie had been pushed into a situation for which he had been completely unprepared. Considering that, he was doing pretty well. And he sure as hell meant good.

"No, there's nothing you or me could do. It's up to him now," Face nodded his head at Murdock, "and the paramedics."

Frankie nodded. After a second of hesitation he squatted down beside Face and patted Murdock's shoulder once. "Hold on, Murdock, ok?"

Murdock opened his eyes, looked at Frankie and blinked once by way of acknowledging the plea, as well as saying that he'd do his best.

Frankie got up, and after another second of hesitation, turned on his heel and left the kitchen.

"Helikeshme," Murdock whispered in one word.

"Sure he does. Everybody likes you," Face quickly assured, then forced a smile onto his face. "Except me. I love you."

"... too..."

Face squeezed Murdock's hand in response.

That way they stayed for the next two minutes, waiting. Waiting was the really hard part in this game, knowing that it was all they could do.

* * *

Murdock felt fine. He knew that he should be worrying. After all, he was dying! But he didn't – worry, that was. The pain had abated – a bad sign, really – his body had gone so numb he didn't feel the coldness anymore.

But Face was there beside him. Face was holding his hand. He told him he loved him. How could he not feel fine?

* * *

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

_The question has been raised: Will Murdock die? Well, there is a death in this chapter... but whether it's Murdock or somebody else ... you'll have to read to find out._

* * *

Face sucked in a sharp breath, when Murdock lost consciousness. There were no visible signs, no going slack or anything, yet Face could tell that one moment Murdock was aware, and the next he wasn't.

"Murdock," he pleaded in a whisper, "Murdock don't give up... Come on, come around, docs will be here soon. You know how docs are, they like their patients awake, so's they can tell 'em where it hurts..." – Fantastic, Face, great line! As if not everyone could see what the problem was!

The door was pushed open, and Face got up in hopeful anticipation, because this could only mean one thing: The paramedics have arrived.

But there was an alternative he wouldn't have thought of in his wildest dreams.

In the doorway stood Corpulent with the girl, the barrel of his gun pressed against her neck. "Everyone gets into the dining area. You," he looked at Face, "lock and barricade the back door. Joey, watch him. You," he turned to look back into the dining room, "get that wannabe hero out of here. I want to have you all under my eyes, where I can see you."

"I'm not leaving him," Face announced, tightening his hold on Murdock's hand.

"You want a hole in your stomach as well?" Corpulent asked, totally unimpressed.

"Face, you better do as he says. We will take good care of Murdock."

"No, Hannibal, you..."

"That wasn't exactly a request," Hannibal stressed in his best colonel-voice.

"Oh... uh... understood." Face waved Frankie over. "Keep the pressure up on the wound. Don't hesitate to press hard, ok?" Frankie nodded.

Reluctantly Face let go of Murdock. He wondered what the hell had gone wrong. Why were the bad guys back in control? Surely, the couple at the window couldn't be in on it. And even if, they were not fit to overpower the A-Team. So what had he missed? There must be something he had overlooked.

"Hurry now!" the young man – Joey – threatened, waving his gun for emphasis.

Face didn't dignify that threat with an answer, but just silently did what he was told to.

Face saw why the baddies were back in control when he joined the others in the dining room a little while later.

There was an elderly, stocky cop, standing guard at the door. Face recognised him to be the one they'd asked for the way to the Lincoln Memorial. He looked pissed as well as nervous. "Now get this over with!" he snapped. "You were so close to having a swat team come over." He held his thumb and forefinger a few millimeters apart.

"Oh, shut up," Corpulent cut him off. "You didn't think all the money rolling your way wouldn't include some sweat, did you?"

"I'll look like an idiot, when they get wind of it," the cop complained.

"Oh yeah? For 100.000 Dollars, I think you can afford looking like an idiot for a little, dontcha think?"

"Of course, I can always give you a believable head wound," Joey added gleefully.

Face hadn't exactly liked Joey before, but after that remark he outright hated him. He just knew the type: trigger-happy, self-absorbed and absolutely no brains in his head. The type of guy everybody loved to have in his unit back in Nam.

"Just," Hannibal spoke up from his seat in the corner, and pulling Face from his thoughts, "why are you going to all this trouble? What the hell is this about?"

"None of your business," Corpulent snapped.

"I am aware of that. But you see, that man is probably dying," he pointed at Murdock, "and call me petty, but I like to know what people die for."

"If you must know," Corpulent gave in irritably, "it's about the Attorney General."

"Ah." Hannibal sounded as if everything made sense to him now, and most likely it did.

Face didn't bother any further. Let Hannibal deal with the Attorney General. He squatted down next to Murdock again, relieving Frankie from his duty. He wondered briefly if the girl – Gina, he remembered her name – had managed to call the ambulance. By her defeated looks, she hadn't. Just what were they to do? Murdock had only 20 minutes left.

Hannibal followed Frankie with his eyes, as he made his way over from the wounded Murdock to the chair next to him. He looked a little rattled, but all in all, he held himself up fine, even while he tried to wipe Murdock's blood off his fingers.

Hannibal let his eyes wander over to the cop at the door. No wonder he'd been so keen on getting rid of them. He had not wanted any witnesses. Well, bad luck there. Bad luck also, that the girl should ask him for help of all people. Well, she couldn't have known.

"I'm off on my rounds," the cop announced into the silence. "Gotta be seen outside. Just make sure nothing more happens, I can't keep them at bay a second time." That said, he tapped his cap in a lazy salute and left.

* * *

Hannibal sighed. He needed a plan. They needed to put out those thugs – to save the Attorney General and, more importantly, to save Murdock. Apparently the girl had asked the cop for help first, maybe expecting him to call the ambulance.

Oh, yes, Hannibal needed a plan. He took in the scene: Murdock lying behind the counter, Face crouching beside him, pressing some cloth against the wound and stroking his arm soothingly. The owner was standing at the far end of the counter, shocked beyond function. The couple was still sitting at the table next to the window, the corpulent guy was sitting at the other window, his gun pointed in Hannibal's general direction. The skinny one of the other two was sitting at a table in the middle of the room, facing the entrance. BA, Frankie and the girl were all gathered around the same table as himself. Only the young guy was pacing the room nervously.

"He shoulda been here five minutes ago," he muttered.

"Calm down, Joey," Corpulent soothed impatiently. "He'll come. What's five minutes delay?"

"He should be here by now," Joey insisted, staring at Corpulent.

"I said calm down!"

Hannibal was on the ready. Corpulent was distracted by Joey, Joey was pacing... Hopefully... Cross your fingers...

Yes!

Joey made an inconsiderate step, crossing the line between Hannibal and Corpulent's gun.

Hannibal jumped up, catching Joey in a tight grip, using him as a shield. If Corpulent was to fire now, he'd hit Joey. Not a great prospect, but a sacrifice Hannibal was ready to make. BA was up on his feet as well, tackling Skinny Guy, and knocking him out with one single punch. Frankie was pushing the girl out of harm's way, shielding her with his own body, quite brave there.

Hannibal slowly pushed towards Corpulent. "I'd drop the gun now if I were you," he said calmly.

"What if I shoot first him, then you?" Corpulent asked back coldly, at which Joey started to struggle and shout frantic 'nos'.

"You're not that fast," Hannibal answered in the same cool voice, ignoring Joey as much as he could.

Corpulent didn't seem to believe that, because he raised the gun, aimed it straight at Joey's heart and shot.

Hannibal felt the young man's body go limp in his grip. Dammit. He had honestly hoped that he'd get everybody out of this alive, including the bad guys. But he would have to work with what he got dealt, so Hannibal pushed the dead body away from him, towards Corpulent. In reflex the man raised his arms to protect himself. That was all Hannibal needed. He jumped, curled his hand into a fist and landed a hard punch on the man's chin.

The gun dropped from the man's hand, momentarily forgotten.

Face noticed the turmoil. He once again battled with himself whether he should leave Murdock and take part in the fight. He saw the phone on the counter, and that decided it. Instead of fighting with his friends he dialled for the much needed paramedics.

"Keep it up, Murdock, keep up," he muttered after he put the phone down. "Five minutes, the man said. Five minutes. You can do five more minutes, right?"

Face felt tears stinging his eyes, but fought them back. "Only five more minutes, muchacho." He kissed Murdock's fingers. "Five minutes, please..."

* * *

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

_Thanks for the reviews. Now that we wrap this little story up I can make a confession: I hate death-fics, so the guys are ... well, I wouldn't say they're safe with me (I like to torture them), but they will always survive. Anything and everything, however improbable. So you can read this last chapter with no more fear._

 _Thanks for joining me on the ride._

* * *

Murdock woke to the antiseptic smell of a hospital. Apart from that not much had changed, as far as he was concerned. He still was numb all over, and somebody was still holding his hand.

"Morning, Murdock," Face's whispered voice greeted him.

"How... how d'ya know... I'm wake?" Murdock asked, not particularly surprised by the weakness of his voice, and not opening his eyes. He liked to imagine that it was just him and Face in the room.

"I just know, muchacho," Face answered.

"Did we..."

"Yeah, we did get the bad guys. And the Attorney General was saved. He's still not too happy with the whole incident." Face chuckled softly.

"Why's that?" Murdock asked, opening his eyes at last.

"Well, turned out he had a reservation for two..." Face's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Only, the woman in his company was not his wife, if you get my meaning."

Murdock smiled, and looked around. The room was empty, excepting Face and himself. "Where's the others?"

"Oh, uh... BA's in a room next door, but don't worry," Face forestalled Murdock's rising panic, "he's just recuperating from giving you some of his blood back at the restaurant."

"Oh, gotta thank him."

"He's gonna have your head if you even try to." Face smiled at him.

Murdock loved that smile. It was open and confident, which meant that he was going to survive. Face only smiled like that when everything was fine.

"Suppose so." Murdock stifled a yawn.

"Frankie's outside, in search for some food, and Hannibal just left to call Stockwell."

Murdock pulled a face at that.

"Which leaves only me and you." Face grinned, bowed forward and pressed his lips against Murdock's. "But really," he said lewdly when he pulled back, "if you weren't ready for more than kisses, you could have just said so."

"Sure," Murdock whispered, his eyelids drooping.

"Love ya."

It was the last thing Murdock heard before sleep claimed him.

* * *

The End


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